Stories of the Street
by AbCarter
Summary: Murdoc is on an assignment to kill a witness. Complications present themselves when he finds out he is not the only one.
1. Chapter 1

_This is the fourth installment in the _Murdoc's Greatest Hits_-series. Because of its length it is posted separately.  
Story is set in 1981._

-oOo-

Murdoc had always had an eye for detail. Details were crucial. A matter of life and death at times. He had run over the plan in its entirety in his head three or four times. Looked at every eventuality, every possible hick-up. If something went wrong Murdoc knew how to respond. No spur of the moment, rash decisions, but calm, calculated action.

This was how it was going down: a little past nine in the morning Paola, the fifth floor maid, would call in sick. She would send a replacement. At 10.15 he would report as her cousin Francesca. No hable inglés, but have come to replace cousin. At 10.35 Francesca would push the cart with fresh linen and towels out of the elevator on the fifth floor. He would start with the rooms on the odd side. That was not Paola's routine, but he wasn't Paola. Room 511 would have a guard sitting outside. The guard would want to check whether he was carrying any weapons amongst the towels and bed linen he was carrying and then let him into the room. Change the towels, superficially clean the bathroom, leave new set of soap and shampoo -- if needed -- change the bed linen and place the bomb underneath the bed.

He would wear the bomb on his person, strapped into his brassiere. Unless the guard wanted a full strip search he would not find it. If the guard wanted him to strip down, Murdoc would just have to be quicker and shoot him with the gun disguised as a toilet brush. This would alarm the witness. Using the guard's gun he would shoot the lock out of the door and kick the door in. A third shot would take out the witness. At this point the hotel would be fully alarmed and an additional set of security guards would be rushing up to the room. Murdoc would have to leave through a window.

He much preferred the original plan. He would place the bomb underneath the bed and activate it. The bomb was radio controlled and would detonated 10 seconds after the phone in room 511 rang. Murdoc would cross the hall to room 516 and park the cart in such a way the guard would not see him sneak out of the room to the staircase. At the ground floor he would place a call to room 511. Then he would leave, preferably through a door.

Murdoc looked himself over in the mirror. He looked Hispanic enough to pass as Paola's cousin. He got up and checked whether he had everything he needed packed up in the overnight bag. He zipped it up and put on a jacket. It was time to push Paola down a flight of stairs.

-oOo-

Phase one had been completed successfully. Murdoc casually dropped a towel on the floor while he maneuvered the domestic cart out of the elevator at the fifth floor of the hotel. It was a posh hotel, Murdoc noted, posher than he had gathered from the blueprints or his surveillance. He appreciated there was a special lift for the domestics. He was the last one to go up, so it would be unlikely anyone would be bothered much by the lift being out of order for a while. He pushed the cart around the corner and saw the guard sitting outside room 511. He was reading a magazine. Murdoc knew from experience that stake outs could get boring, but if you let your attention slip that was when the important things happened.

He parked the cart before room 517, opened the door with the pass key, took two sets of fresh bed linen of the pile and went into the room. He put the clean linen on the side table and stripped the beds. He didn't bother making the beds. It was unlikely the guard would come into the room and check on him. The guard would, or for this particular case better should, notice if he didn't leave the room with any dirty linen. A couple more trips in and out of the room to make it look like he was a proper domestic, lock the door and on to the next room, play out the same routine.

As Murdoc returned from room 515 with an arm full of bed linen he heard the guard make some unpleasant noises. He looked over and saw him lying on the ground, convulsing. He felt a gun press against his head, just above his left ear.

"Now would be a good time to just start walking and don't look back," a woman's voice said.

Murdoc didn't reply. He felt for the toilet brush on the cart and probed the woman's abdomen with it.

"What's that? You gonna bludgeon me to death with a toilet brush?"

"Guess again." Murdoc cocked the fire mechanism on the toilet brush.

"Something tells me you're not the average latino maid."

"What possibly could have given me away?"

"The accent actually. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. What did you do to the guard?"

"Nothing. Neurotoxin did that. Are you a cop?"

"If I were I would have warned you of that already. By the same token, I doubt you're a cop either."

"Then who are you?"

"I think we're here for the same reasons."

The woman seemed to give this a moment's ponder. "They double booked us? I thought only hotel rooms got double booked, not hotel room killings."

"You live, you learn."

Not that Murdoc appreciated the situation. An assassination was complicated enough without having to deal with competition. He'd never ran into a 'colleague' before, and he wondered why he ran into one now. Was it because he'd been out of it for a while? Did they think he wasn't up to it anymore? Or was the client a bit of a nervous wrack and had he set out the assignment in a few different places. HIT usually investigated those things. They turned down the job if it hadn't be exclusively offered to them. Or were there perhaps more people who wanted this person dead?

"What are we gonna do about this situation?" The woman broke into his thoughts.

"You could start by putting down your weapon."

"You first."

Neither of them moved. At the other end of the hall way the elevator gave off a ping, announcing it had arrived. They both turned their attention to the elevator and saw two men come out. The men turned into the hall way, saw the guard, who had stopped convulsing, lying cramped up on the ground, then they saw the two assassins, one holding a gun to the other's head.

"What's going on here?" One of them shouted. Both of them reached for their guns.

The woman shot one of them in a knee cap. Murdoc shot the other one in the shoulder. They turned around and ran away. The woman turned right, towards the staircase. Murdoc turned left and saw he had made a mistake. There was nothing there but a fire extinguisher and a big potted plant. A bullet lodged itself in the wall. They were shooting at him. There was no way back, no way out. Unless. Murdoc grabbed the handle of a lid that was concealed in the wall. It opened. Garbaged shoot, laundry shoot, it didn't matter to Murdoc. It was big enough for him to fit through.

Murdoc landed in a big pile of laundry and immediately rolled out of the way. Someone was shooting down the shoot. He scrambled up and quickly made his way out of the basement and out of the hotel.

-oOo-

_A new development in the Paco Juárez trial. At around eleven this morning two women tried to forcibly gain access to the secure hotel room where Vincente Diaz, key witness in the Juárez trial, is staying in protective custody. The suspects poisoned one guard; he was taken to the hospital in critical condition. The women were frustrated in their attempt to gain access to Diaz' hotel room when unexpectedly a relief crew of security appeared. Gun fire was exchanged and both security officers were wounded. The women managed to escape. Diaz has been moved to an unknown location. His testimony in the ..._

Murdoc turned off the television in passing. So the woman had escaped too. Too bad, she should have gotten caught for botching up his job. On the other hand, with her still on the loose, he would derive great pleasure from hunting her down and teaching her a lesson. There weren't that many female assassins; she should be relatively easy to find. Murdoc was sure it was a woman. He had not been able to get a good look of her, only heard her talk. And no one, in his opinion, was that good a voice artist that they could fool him. Besides, her approach didn't require a disguise so why would she bother?

He took a sip of his wine and put the glass back on the counter. The woman had a pretty distinct MO: she poisoned the guard at the door. Most would have opted for either distracting or shooting the guard. What did she say she used? A neurotoxin. A synthetic or a natural one? Murdoc picked up his glass and walked over to the book case in his loft. He ran his eyes down the rows of titles on the shelves. He picked one out and sat down with it in the easy chair facing the book case.

Paging through the book his mind started working. He swirled the white-golden liquid in his glass. He grinned wickedly at himself. He got a few nice ideas that would take care of Diaz and perhaps also get that woman out of the way. He would have to go shopping in the morning. That was okay, the earliest time he could get at Diaz would probably be just before he were to give testimony anyway. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He set to work on the details of his new plan.

-oOo-

The shop bell rang of _Sam's Terrarium Pets_ as Murdoc stepped into the shop. He gave it an angry look and closed the door behind him. The light in the shop was dim. Straight ahead of him stood a small terrarium with some small plants and moss and an odd arrangement of wood and rocks. Murdoc didn't see a spider, but he thought it might be in hiding. He heard someone coughing and looked up. He straightened his back and looked over the terrarium at a man in his early fifties wearing a t-shirt that frayed at the collar. Murdoc presumed it was Sam.

"Nice looking rosehair in there." The man nodded at the terrarium.

"He seems shy."

"They're always a bit skittish. But they're docile too and can be safely handled."

"Hmm." Murdoc glanced down at the terrarium. "Actually I didn't come to buy a spider. I heard you also sell specialties."

"Specialties are for special costumers."

"And how does one become a special costumer?"

"One has to fill out a registration form."

Murdoc took some money from his inside pocket and put it on the lid of the terrarium of the rosehair. "I previously filled out a form. Does it have all the information you need?"

Sam took the money, counted the bills, folded them up and stuck them in his back pocket. "I'm sorry, I hadn't recognized you from your earlier visit, Mr Franklin."

Murdoc gave him a measly smile.

"What kind of specialties are you interested in? Spider, snake?"

"No snakes," Murdock quickly replied. "Just spiders."

"Come with me. I've got some samples in the back."

Murdoc followed Sam to a back office, or rather, a brightly lit, sterile laboratory. Sam sat down on a stool and indicated Murdoc should do the same. Murdoc preferred to remain standing near the door.

"What kind of stuff do you need?"

"The really potent stuff."

"What are you gonna use it for?"

"A cocktail party. I thought I'd put something different in the ice cubes than the same old cherry or a little worm."

"Sorry I asked."

"You should be." Murdoc gave him a folded piece of paper. "I looked a few things up. Do you have any of these?"

Sam unfolded the sheet. "Sidney Funnelwebs, male. Yeah, I have those. You know they have antivenom for this."

"Only in the region around Sidney where this spider is a common and unwanted houseguest. It will have to be flown in." By that time dear Diaz will be dead, Murdoc thought to himself. "Unless you know of any supplies of antivenom in this town."

"Like you said: the Funnelweb isn't common here." Sam folded up the sheet of paper and gave it back. "I'll have to milk the spiders. Come back in the afternoon and I'll have your order ready for you."

"And the price?"

"A five year membership of the specialty club."

Murdoc mustered up a smile. It would be a lot easier doing business with criminals if they didn't talk in code all the time. "Agreed. I'll see you later." Murdoc gave a nod and left the shop.

-oOo-

On one side of his loft Murdoc had a workbench. Here he worked on his murder weapon. He figured it would be impossible to place another bomb. Not only did he not know where the target was, security around him would be a lot tighter. So he needed something long distance and something that would not kill instantly. Hence the choice for spider venom. Security would not realize the witness had been poisoned until it was too late to round up the possible suspects hanging out in front of the courthouse. Plenty of time for him to get away.

Murdoc converted an old photo-camera to shoot tiny ampules of venom when triggered. He loaded the camera with an empty ampule and tested its aiming accuracy.

"Perfect." He was pleased.

Murdoc set to preparing the venomous ampules. When finished he loaded the weapon with two ampules and carefully stored it in his camera bag. He checked whether he had packed everything else he might need: press card, ID. He was ready.

Murdoc turned on some music, poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in his easy chair. That would take care of the target. He wondered if the woman would make another attempt at the target. If she was smart she would stay away once she found out she wasn't the only one. But if she took any kind of pride in her work, she would not sit back and leave this one to the competition. Murdoc was looking forward to meeting her again.

He had tried to find out more about her through his HIT contact. HIT didn't know much about her, not even a name. She was on the private pay role of one of the bigger names in the drug industry; active between five and eight years; and, though she probably had access to all kinds of designer drugs, her preferred mode of operation was spider venom. Murdoc grinned thinking back: his innocent choice for Sidney Funnelweb venom would leave his little nuisance grinding her teeth. HIT assured him that the client had assured them that the contract had now been exclusively awarded to him. The woman had been hired by a friend trying to be helpful, but had now been pulled from the job.

Which was a pity, really. Murdoc would have enjoyed running in to her again, and seeing the look on her face once she realized he had borrowed her MO. Now, all he was left with was imagining that look and thinking about what he would do if someone stole his MO. The thief would not live long enough to enjoy his bounty.

-oOo-

There was a large crowd of reporters gathered outside the Courthouse that morning. Murdoc filed in line. He looked up at the gray sky and noted there might be rain. He also noted the snipers on the roofs of the surrounding buildings. A quick get away would be suspicious. He didn't need a quick get away. He looked around at the crowd of journalists and photographers. He wondered if the woman would be among them. He would be if someone tried to pull him from a job. Murdoc got his camera from his bag.

The police had secured off the steps up to the Courthouse and part of the street. Reporters were chatting amongst themselves. An unmarked van with tainted windows pulled up. Two men in suits wearing sun glasses jumped out. For a moment Murdoc wondered whether he was at the right side of the building. That the prosecution was putting up this little show and meanwhile smuggle the witness in through the back door. Then he saw Diaz get out of the van. He recognized him from his picture. Three more body guards got out after him and the small group, with Diaz in the middle, started moving toward the building.

The crowd of reports rushed forward, as far as the police cordon would allow them, trying to get pictures and sound-bites. Diaz was completely sealed in by body guards as they pushed through the crowd. Murdoc raised his camera. It was hard to get a good shot. He triggered. An ampule shot from his camera and hit its target. The ampule stuck in his neck obscured for the most part by the witness' own hair. Murdoc smirked. Diaz brought up a hand to scratch his neck. Murdoc quickly fired another ampule. It hit Diaz in the hand. In a reflex Diaz swatted the sting in his other hand. Murdoc hoped he had broken the little ampule and cut his hand. That would make the absorption of the venom in his blood stream a lot easier. Diaz wiped his hands on his trousers underneath his jacket.

The huddle of witness and body guards went inside. Several reporters tried to follow, but were stopped by the police. Murdoc put his camera back in his bag. There was nothing left for him to do, but wait. And what better place to wait, than somewhere else.

-oOo-

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

Murdoc crouched down beside some crates. It was dark in the warehouse. He didn't like the situation much. His target was a little heavier armed than he had expected, and he was a little less heavy armed than intended. These were not odds Murdoc liked. He sat quietly and tried to listen for any movement. Nothing. The target must be doing the same thing. Murdoc moved into position to run across the isle to the next block of crates. As he crossed the isle two shots were fired at him. Murdoc made a somersault and ended up behind the crate. Well, at least now he knew where that woman was.

He looked up. Maybe if he climbed on top of the crates he could get the upper advantage. He put his gun behind his belt and used a smaller crate as a leg-up to get onto the big crates. His gun back in hand he snuck over to where he last suspected the woman. He saw she had moved too. She was sneaking around the crates. Murdoc released the magazine from his weapon and took a bullet from it. Then he replaced the magazine. The muffled click made the woman look up. Murdoc threw the bullet away. It hit a wooden crate and then the concrete floor. Murdoc used the distraction of the woman to jump down behind her.

"Hello, Pussycat."

She turned around. A swift kick made her drop her gun to the ground. Another couple of kicks made her stumbled back. She stumbled into the railing and fell over it. He heard a woosh, closely followed by a shout of surprise.

"What is this?" the woman shouted.

"Spider's web," Murdoc replied. "I thought it would be fitting. You seem to like spiders so much."

"Oh, lovely. Poetic justice."

Murdoc grinned. He turned around and picked up her gun. A Colt Pocket Hammerless. He checked the magazine. Five rounds left. He tried to get a feel for the gun. It was an unexpected choice from Spider.

Spider, as he had found out she prefered to call herself, was the assassin that crossed his path nearly two years earlier when he wanted to kill the Juárez witness. He had never put much of an effort into tracking her, until she recently crossed his path again. Or rather, his HIT contact had mentioned that a woman with the characteristics he had once asked after, had joined the ranks of HIT. An opportune time to get some belated revenge.

"So, what really is this stuff?"

"Fish net. With industrial strength glue. Any part of you touching the net will stick to it. I do hope you didn't fall in face down."

From the reaction of the woman Murdoc couldn't tell whether she had. It was also too dark to see. He went down the stairs to the first floor of the warehouse. He heard a light thud. He saw a silhouette get up. Spider had somehow managed to get out of the net.

"I don't think so." He pressed the Colt in the back of her head and forced her to kneel down. He took the combat knife from her right hand and quickly patted her down to see if she carried any more weapons.

"You've got me. Care to tell me why?"

"Because you let yourself be caught."

She let out a sigh. "Why were you trying to catch me?"

"We've crossed paths before. In Spring 1981, at a lovely hotel."

"So I gave you the brush off in the hotel bar. Kind of vindictive, don't you think, if you're still carrying a grudge two years later."

"We didn't meet in the hotel bar. You interrupted me on my job. I got shot at and had to make a very uncomfortable ride down a laundry shoot."

"Oh, that hotel." Spider raised a hand; she put it back down when Murdoc nudged her with her gun. "I thought you already had your revenge there. I got pulled from the job and you used _my_ method to kill the witness. Plenty of humiliation there for me."

"Revenge is never complete until the enemy is destroyed."

"That explains the two year grudge. I take it you don't have much of a social life, place to unwind. Have you ever thought about therapy? Shrinks have professional secrecy; you can tell them what ever and they can't tell anyone else."

Murdoc smirked. "Any last words before you die?"

"For my last words I would like to recite the complete works of Shakespeare. Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets ..."

"That's enough." Murdoc pulled back the slide of the Colt. He placed the gun against her temple.

"Wait, wait. Before you shoot me you may want to hear me out. I have a proposition for you. An offer you can't refuse."

"I seriously doubt that."

"What have you got to lose if I make it?"

"Five minutes of my life I'm never getting back."

"Argh, you'll just have to die five minutes later than you originally planned."

Murdoc considered this for a moment. "All right. Go ahead. Talk."

"Right, right. Seen as you're a professional killer. And a very good one I might add; you've got the better of me already twice. That's not something I'm used too."

"Talk faster."

"I want to hire you to kill Juárez."

"Juárez? That drug lord that hired both of us to kill that witness in his trial?"

"That's the one. I'll pay you 25 thousand. What d'you say?"

"I was paid more to kill his witness."

"What? They only offered me 16."

"You were unsuccessful."

"Would have been successful if you hadn't shown up."

"You still haven't made me that offer I can't refuse." He pushed the gun a little harder against her temple. She tried to turn her head away; the gun followed.

"All right. Name your price."

"100."

"What? Are you trying to kill me with jealousy?" Murdoc urged her again with the gun. "Okay, stop probing. What if I offer you 40 and we meet in the middle?"

"Plus expenses."

"I make 16 on a kill if I don't get interrupted. You think I can afford your expense account?"

"Probably not. Why do you want Juárez dead? Not that I don't appreciate the irony that you hire me to do the job."

"I have my reasons. Does it matter to you what they are?"

"Not in the least."

"Well?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Well what?"

"Have I hired you?"

"Yes. Yes, you have."

"You can take the gun down now."

"Sure, shooting is too good for you, anyway."

Murdoc returned the safety on the gun and put it in his pocket. He stepped back and folded his hands together. The woman got to her feet and padded the dirt of her knees.

"You wouldn't have happened to find a Colt Hammerless up there? I seem to have dropped it."

"That's too bad." Murdoc indicated a hand towards the door. "I have to ask you to leave now."

"I want to come along."

Murdoc raised an eye brow. "Come along?"

"Yeah. If you're going after Juárez I want to come along. Look over your shoulder. Learn while a master is at work."

"I don't take protégées."

"I'm not talking about becoming a protégé. I'm too old for that. Just on this one job I want to look over your shoulder. It would be more of an internship. They do this sort of thing in business and academia all the time."

"Maybe you should try it in business or academia then." Murdoc withdrew further into the darkness and started on his way out.

"I'll pay you that 100 thousand you asked for in the first place."

Murdoc stopped and turned around. "You'll pay me 100 thousand to kill Juárez, but I have to take you with me on the job."

"That's right."

Murdoc thought about it. He really didn't need a tag along. The money was good though. And she was a professional that just wanted to hone her skills by taking master classes. It was flattering, really, that she had chosen him. Better judgment went head to head with ego boost; the latter won.

"I don't need a tag along that keeps getting caught. If you get caught, you're on your own."

"I'll have you know that the only time I have been _caught_ was when you were out to catch me. I think we'll be fine if I'm working with you rather than against you. Wait, did you just agree to this internship?"

"Hmm, must have been a momentary short circuit in my brain."

"Yes or no?" There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"I want half the money in cash up front."

"Of course you do."

"Meet me at King Street Station tomorrow morning at 8.15."

"Okay." She sounded at little hesitant.

"What's the matter? Found you've bitten off bigger than you can chew?"

"No, no. I'm fine."

"See you tomorrow then."

"Can I have my knife back? I want to cut this net so I can at least walk properly."

"Sure." Murdoc took the knife from his inside pocket and slipped it to her across the floor. It stopped halfway between them. Murdoc quickly made his way out of the warehouse; he heard the woman hop towards the knife. She shouted an annoyed 'thank you' as he left the building.

-oOo-

Murdoc stood at the coffee-bar nursing a large coffee over looking the main hall of King Street Station. The hustle and bustle of commuter traffic was at its peak, intermixed with some long distance travellers and day-trippers. He enjoyed watching the crowd wondering where they came from, wondering where they were going. Sometimes someone would cast a look in his direction, wondering the same about him.

Murdoc checked his watch. Not yet 8.15 AM. He had spotted Spider already; carrying a large backpack she had first gone into the bookstore, bought a book, and was now studying the time tables. Murdoc slowly drank his coffee, threw away the empty carton and when the central clock showed 8.15 walked over to her.

"Hello, Pussycat."

"People call me Spider," she replied without taking her eyes of the time table.

"I wonder why." Murdoc just caught a glimps of a tattoo of a spider on the inside of her left wrist before she brought her hand down and turned to him.

"Because I tell them to call me Spider."

One of the corners of his mouth briefly curled up.

"What do they call you?"

"Charming. Dangerous."

"Is that dangerously charming, or charmingly dangerous?"

"Both." The same corner curled up ever so briefly again. "But enough with the introductions. I believe you had a little something for me?"

"Ah, yes. About that. It proved a little difficult to raise that much cash on such short notice."

"Good-bye." Murdoc turned around and walked away.

"Wait up." Spider ran after him. "I got as far as 40 thou."

"No deal."

"C'mon. It's 80 of the advance and I bet it's about your going rate."

"Yesterday you thought 25 was my going rate."

"That was before I found out you are Murdoc. Quite impressive your record."

"Been asking around about me?" They left the station and Murdoc turned left. Spider followed.

"Sure, I'm not actually as dumb as I appear."

"Yet, you want to make a down payment 10,000 dollars short."

"As I said ..."

"Yes, you said. But if you can't live up to your end of the bargain why should I live up to mine?"

"I'm good for it. Just not right now."

"Call me when you get the cash." Murdoc looked both ways before he started to cross the street at a point he thought suitable.

It took a moment before Spider followed. She didn't say anything until they were in the middle of the street. "I will pay you in full. Except ..." They started crossing the other half of the street. "Except it won't be half now half later, but 40 now, 60 later. To make up for it: I've got a lot of useful information on Juárez."

They reached the other side of the street. Murdoc stopped at a Nissan sedan. He felt for the keys in his pocket. "40 now, 65 later, plus the information on Juárez."

"You're renegotiating our deal?"

"So are you, my darling." Murdoc went over to the driver's side of the car. "Get in the car."

"I must be as dumb as I appear," Spider said as she grabbed the door handle.

"Don't flatter yourself."

They got into the car. Spider put her book on the dashboard and pulled in her backpack.

"What have you got in there?"

"I didn't know where we would be going, so I packed for all seasons: Summer, Winter, bathing suit." Spider opened her pack. "This is for you." She pulled two envelops from the pack and gave them to Murdoc. He briefly checked their contents then put both of them in the side of he door. "And this is all I know about Juárez." She pulled a folder from the pack. "This is Juárez." She gave Murdoc a photo.

"Bit of a Robin Hood complex," Murdoc remarked looking at the man with the tiny goatee and pointy mustache.

"Try Erroll Flynn aficionado. These are some of his body guards."

"Looks like they fell into the magic potion as babies." Murdoc assessed each of the three men was at least twice his size. He wondered how many of them there were.

"Uh, I guess. They're the main reason I can't get close enough to Juárez to kill him myself. That's why I enlisted you. You did such a marvelous job on his witness." Spider took one more photo from the folder and closed it. "And this is his yacht: Children of the dust."

"That's the name of his yacht?"

"I think it has something to do with him being a desert man. Around this time of the year he usually has it moored in Portland, Oregon."

"And where is he himself, this time a year?"

"According to my source Juárez is in Portland at least until the end of the week."

"You've been asking around a lot yesterday."

"I had to wait for the cash to clear."

Murdoc gave the pictures back. "Have you ever been to Portland?"

"You take the Interstate Five. Turn right when the sign tells you to."

Murdoc closed his eyes and briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into. Then he started the car and filed into traffic. The quick acceleration made Spider lose her balance and knock her head against the car door. Her little indignant cry gave Murdoc some pleasure.

Spider returned the folder to the backpack. She wrestled the pack on to back seat, took her book and started reading.

-oOo-

_A/N: The Shakespeare quote are the opening lines of Henry VI, Part I. _


	3. Chapter 3

Murdoc leaned against the side of the car half sitting on the hood. He overlooked the marina. It was the marina in Portland where the more luxurious yachts and motor boats moored. It was lacking a certain 50 feet long sailing yacht. Murdoc glanced over at Spider who was on the other side of the car leaning on the roof, her head propped up on her hands.

"How reliable is this source of yours?"

"That depends on the question. He's usually pretty good at telling where to find a doped up horse."

"So you thought he'd also be able to tell you where to find a dope dealing stallion?"

"It's Juárez' horses that get doped. Besides, he's not a stallion. He's surprisingly monogamous."

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. "In this line of work you should never be surprised."

"Shall I go and ask where Juárez and his boat are?"

"Considering the quality of your previous inquiries I think I should go with you." Murdoc got up and walked to the boot of the car. "You may want to change your appearance a little. You could start by sorting out your shirt."

Spider looked down and noted that her left collar flap was tucked in. She pulled it out and straightened out the collar.

"On second thought, take off that shirt all together."

"Excuse me?"

"We're going to a Yacht Club. You're dressed like you work on a barge."

"They're comfortable travel clothes."

"Right now I need you to be someone who cares more about style than comfort." Murdoc opened the car boot. He took off his denim jacket and looked pensive at the two suitcases in the trunk. "We are going to a Yacht Club. So we are going to be two people who own a 40 feet motor yacht and are looking for a place to moor it. Nouveau Riche. More money than good taste. The interior is done in cherry wood." Murdoc pulled one of the suitcases closer and opened it. "You wear too much accessories, and a little too much make-up. You need to wear your hair down, or, actually, you need to take a wafer iron to it. It's the right color, though, blond that needs touching up at the roots." Murdoc described the look he wanted for Spider.

"I'm a natural blond," Spider protested.

"I used to be a natural blond." Murdoc slipped on a light gray sports jacket while he continued talking. "Then I got some bleach in my eye and decided that I wouldn't be a blond for a while." He took a hand mirror from the suitcase and combed his hair with his hand. Length: acceptable. Color: a little off. Why had he decided to dye it chestnut this time? He should have gone for something with highlights. He also shouldn't have shaved in the morning, or the past few days for that matter. Nonchalant, yet well styled stubble would have lined his chin by now. That's what you got when you took last minute assignments: you couldn't get into character properly. He stroked his left jaw line. Well, the scars also gave off some character.

"Here." Murdoc pulled a cloth role from his suitcase and walked around the car to give it to Spider.

Spider was sitting on the back seat, her legs sticking out the door, applying her make-up. She had put on a pair of high heeled boots and a leather jacket. Murdoc was quite pleased he didn't have to spell out the matter of disguises to her. This was a Master Class; disguises should be covered in Assassins 101.

"Here. To accessorize."

Spider put away her mascara and took the cloth. She rolled it open on her lap. Her eyes went wide for a moment when she saw the jewelry.

"Don't get any ideas: most of it is fake."

"Hmm. And what are you supposed to look like?" Spider looked him over.

"Jet set. You like?" Murdoc slicked back his hair with his hands. He took a chain necklace from the cloth on Spider's lap to put around his neck.

"I don't find you in the least attractive that way."

"On a personal level I don't care the least. On a professional level I say you are not in character yet. Work on it." Murdoc turned back to the boot of the car. He took of his boots and replaced them with a pair of loafers.

Spider gave him back the rolled up cloth of jewelry. Murdoc looked her over quickly to see whether she was acceptable for the character he had in mind for her. She passed.

"Get your backpack. We're not the kind of people that leave that sort of thing on the back seat."

"We're also not the kind of people that drive a Nissan." Spider threw her backpack in the trunk.

Murdoc slammed it closed. "It's a rental."

-oOo-

Murdoc offered his arm to Spider and together they walked up to the boardwalk. They passed a gate and continued down the wooden boards towards the yachts. Sounds of hammering and sawing drew Murdoc's attention. To their right a group of men were building a boathouse.

"If Juárez put his yacht in a boathouse it's no wonder we didn't see it."

"Juárez likes to have his boat close to the river. There weren't any boathouses close to the river."

That was true. Murdoc let got off Spider and put his hands in his pockets and sauntered off down the boardwalk in the direction of the yachts closest to the river. Spider stayed behind. He heard footsteps of a heavy-set man running down the boardwalk. The man caught up with Spider.

"Ma'am, what are you doing here?"

"I'm with him," Spider replied. She continued in a whiny voice: "Danny, wait up. You know I can't run in these heels."

Murdoc stopped and made a half turn toward Spider. Danny, he had thought he would be a Vince. Perhaps he should have mentioned this to Spider. The man walked up to him. He was dressed in a marine blue blazer with the logo of the River Yacht Club sewn on his front pocket. He wore a red-gray striped tie and had an air of importance. Murdoc lifted up his chin and calmly waited for the man.

"Excuse me, mister, but what are you doing here?"

"This is a Yacht Club, isn't it? I have a yacht and I'm looking for a place to moor it. Your marina seems like an excellent place: close to the river, many luxury yachts like our own." Murdoc gestured around him. "We're just looking around. Who are you?"

"David Merchant. I'm administrator at the River Yacht Club."

"How do you do, David? Daniel Klein. That's Sandy." Murdoc shook David's hand. "I'll be relocating to Portland in the Summer. I have a 40 feet motor yacht, and I'm looking for a place near to moor it. Do you have moorage places available?"

"Uh, yes. But you see, this is a private club."

"Hmhmm, and we're thinking about joining, aren't we, darling?"

"Danny only wants the best for his boat."

"Yacht, darling, yacht."

"By private club I mean that new members have to be invited by existing members. And two other members have to co-sponsor."

"Like a Lions Club."

"Uh, yes."

"You do allow female members, don't you?" Murdoc turned around and continued to walk down the boardwalk to the yachts that were nearest to the river.

"Ah, yes, of course." David quickly followed him. "We're a family club after all. We even have a few ladies only events, where your wife ..." the man gestured to Spider who was lagging behind.

"She's not my wife," Murdoc said subtly. He managed a little smile.

"We're a family club," David repeated straightening up. "That sort of thing ..."

"I think you are jumping to conclusions. The wrong conclusions by the way."

"I apologize."

"Hmm. Anyway, I'm not here to discuss my marital status. I'm here to discuss your marina." While walking Murdoc lead David to the far side of the marina, close to the river. "What kind of facilities is your marina offering, David?"

"Well, all our moorage spaces are enclosed and intended exclusively for member owned boathouses. We offer full services, such as water and power at all the landing sites. And many events throughout the year, both at the club house and on the water." David smiled a warm salesman's smile.

"We'd like those, wouldn't we, darling?" Murdoc looked passed David to see if Spider had caught up. "But those moorage spaces here don't have boathouses."

"These are spaces for temporary docking. Guests of our members can moor their yachts here for a few days. Over there are all the member owned spaces. As you can see most of them have boathouses. A few don't, but those belong to new members. I could give you a full tour of the marina, but if there are no current members that can sponsor your membership application, I'm afraid I would just be wasting your time."

"As a matter of fact, we have a friend who is a member. His favorable stories about your Club is the main reason we are here. Perhaps you know him? He owns a 50 feet yacht called _Children of the Dust_."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Juárez. He's a very active member of the River Yacht Club. Always initiating new events for our members."

"That sounds like him. Is he in? He's usually in Portland this time of the year."

"Yes, he usually is, but just a few days ago he took out his yacht for a short cruise down the river. I'm afraid you have just missed him."

Murdoc shot Spider a look, but she chose just that moment to start digging through her purse. Murdoc quickly recomposed himself and smiled to David.

"When will he be back, David, do you know? Sandy and I are in town for a few days, looking at some properties, admiring this marina. It would be wonderful if we could also catch up with an old friend."

"Well." David straightened his tie. Murdoc gave him an encouraging smile. "We have a large function this Saturday, and Mr. Juárez is one of the organizing members. I guess that means he will be back no later than Thursday."

"That's too bad. We're flying back Wednesday evening."

"I can say 'hello' from you to Mr. Juárez."

"Better not. Don't want to make him sad he has just missed us. I think we should go now. David." Murdoc extended his hand. "Thank you very much for your time. We will have to take a rain check on your offer to show us around; perhaps next time we're in town."

"Excellent. If Mr. Juárez is sponsoring you I'm sure there will be no problem for you to pass our application procedure." David shook Murdoc's hand. "If you walk this way, I will give you a brochure with our contact details."

-oOo-

Murdoc tapped on the roof of the car with the brochure David had given him. He chewed on the inside of his cheeks and looked at Spider. At least two days before Juárez would be back in Portland. On the bright side that meant he had some guaranteed time to think of a good method for killing him. On the other hand: he didn't need that long.

"Your information was insufficient." If not to say plain faulty.

"According to my information Juárez is a creature of habit. I could write an almanac about him."

"A flawed almanac."

"Wouldn't it be more interesting to find out why Juárez has changed his habits?"

"I'm more interested in finding out where Juárez is now."

"Let's go and find out." Spider yanked open the car door and got in.

Murdoc tapped the brochure on the roof a few more times before he opened the door on the driver's side and got in too. Spider was busy taking off the jewelry.

-oOo-

Murdoc sat on the window sill of his hotel room. He looked at the street down below. Spider had given him her file on Juárez. It was detailed to say the least. It seemed in the past 18 months Juárez hadn't taken a step without it ending up in this file. Plus there was a long list of his plans for the coming months. Usually he had a lot less to work with. That didn't matter now, as Juárez had decided to change his plans. Perhaps he was forced to when someone stole his filofax.

Murdoc picked up the picture that was on top. He stared at Juárez walking down a beach, his arm around a brunette of medium height. Both of them wearing sunglasses, but looking happy to be together nonetheless. Who was the brunette? Maybe he could get to Juárez through her. Murdoc leafed through the file. No information on the brunette, or any woman for that matter. So, who was she? His catch of the week?

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Across the room the door opened and Spider came in. She looked around the room and seemed surprised to find him on the window sill.

"Come in, have a seat." Murdoc gestured to the bed.

"Isn't it strange that you are sitting on the window sill?" Spider asked as she sat down opposite of him. "I mean aren't you an easy target for a sniper."

"Sometimes I love to live dangerously." Murdoc smirked. Spider giggled in reply. "What brings you here?"

"I've been making a few calls. It bothered me that he isn't in Portland. It's not like him to suddenly change his plans. As you may have seen in the file, he really is a creature of habit."

"I've noticed. I was also wondering if you ever were his personal assistant. How did you get all this information?"

Spider's facial expression turned for a moment, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Not me. I have my sources. Who were, by the way, also surprised Juárez wasn't in Portland. But one of them said that Juárez had gone down the river."

"Yes, David already told us that."

"David?"

"David Merchant, the man at the marina. Never forget a name, or a face. You never know when it could be useful."

"Right. Well, my guy thought Juárez wanted to check out the beaches along the Columbia River. And that David guy said Juárez would be back on Thursday. That function _is_ in the file."

"Hmm, I saw, but I prefer not to take people out at social functions. Too many witnesses."

"Goes without saying."

"I have an idea, though. Could you do some shopping for me?" Murdoc tore a sheet of paper from a notepad and gave that to Spider.

"Two plastic containers with lid, duct tape, electricity wire, magnets," Spider read out the list.

"I mean those large magnets you find on the insides of television sets."

"Okay, what do you need all this stuff for?"

"I'm making a mine. Two limpet mines to be exact. We attach them to Juárez' yacht."

"I see. Don't you need explosives for that?"

"Yes." Murdoc dragged out the answer. "I'll take care of the explosives. You take care of everything that is on that list. You can probably buy most of it at Safeway's."

"Right." Spider folded the sheet of paper and pocketed it. "Anything else?"

"Don't be long."

Spider got up and walked to the door. With the door handle in hand she turned around. "Thanks for doing this."

Murdoc looked up from the file. "I'm doing this because you are paying me. You can thank me in cash."

"Right." Spider nodded and left the room.

Murdoc got up and threw the file on the bed. He went to do his own chores.

-oOo

The following morning Murdoc packed up the two mines he had built the previous night and went over to Spider's room. There was no answer to his knock. He picked the lock and went in. One of the curtains was half open and sunlight streamed into the room. There was some movement from the shape in the bed.

"C'mon, time to get up." Murdoc clapped his hands.

Spider looked up, her hair in disarray, a weary look on her face. "It's too early."

"It's 9.15."

"No way it is."

Murdoc checked his watch. "It's 9.14. You're right: it's still early."

"Do you always barge into women's bedrooms like this?"

Murdoc didn't reply, but kept looking at his watch. Spider let herself fall back into her pillow with a groan.

"9.15. Get up. Now!"

Spider groaned again. She struggled with the blankets and sheets to get out of bed. Murdoc looked at the scene with disdainful amusement.

"Could you be somewhere else while I get dressed?"

Murdoc raised his eyebrows. "Whatever for?"

"I can't think of any reason," Spider replied. She opened the door to the bathroom.

"I'll see you in the lobby in five minutes."

"Fourteen." Spider closed the door of the bathroom, effectively cutting off any objections Murdoc might have.

Murdoc checked his watch again, picked up his bag and went to the lobby.

-oOo-

"Half a minute to spare." Murdoc put down the magazine he was reading when Spider announced herself with a little cough.

"Any chance of using those 30 seconds to have breakfast?"

"If you had gotten up earlier you could have had breakfast. Now you will just have to skip it." Murdoc got up.

"Can't skip breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day. It lays that all important foundation you can benefit from for the rest of the day. If I don't get any breakfast I'll probably whine to you about it all day."

"Yes, I considered that possibility." Murdoc gave her a paper bag. "Your breakfast."

Spider smiled as she took the bag and looked inside.

"You're not going to whine about the choice of breakfast I've made?"

"I'm a Spider. I'll eat anything that doesn't eat me first."

Murdoc shuddered to shake of that image. "You'll have to eat in the car. There's a lot of things we have to do before the day is done."

-oOo-

Murdoc pulled the car into the parking lot of another marina. Spider gave him a light frown.

"Here they rent out motorboats and diving equipment." He got out of the car.

"Diving equipment?" Spider followed him into the shop.

"Yes, how do you suppose we place the mines?"

"I thought we'd just drop them in the water."

"They're limpet mines. They're attached to the hull. Special feature: there's no way to out run them. That's why we will dive."

"We?"

"We." Murdoc picked up an oxygen tank. "You have dived before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but never in the arctic."

"Oregon is hardly the arctic."

"I'm from Florida."

Murdoc squinted at her and thrust the oxygen tank in her arms. He picked up another one and turned around. He reminded himself how much money 105 thousand dollars was.

-oOo-

The Glastron V187 Swinger cut through the water. Murdoc increased the speed a little more. He smiled. He was enjoying himself. He loved driving. A car or a boat didn't matter in that respect. As long as he was in control and at the wheel. It wasn't because he was wanted in every decent country in the world, and in most of the not so decent countries as well, that he was always on the run. It was because he couldn't settle. He needed to be on the road, or on the water, feel the wind in his face, on the way to a better life.

Murdoc slowed down. He always spoiled his own mood with thoughts like that. He glanced over his shoulder. Spider sat in the aft her legs stretched out. She had her eyes closed. Murdoc reached over to tap her shoulder. Spider opened her eyes and gave him a look as if she didn't know where she was.

"Come, sit up front. I want you to point out Juárez yacht when we pass it."

Spider nodded and scrambled up.

Half an hour later they passed a yacht that according to Spider was the _Children of the Dust_. Murdoc turned of the engine and the motorboat came to a slow stop. He took a pair of binoculars out of the glove compartment and put them to his eyes. He admired the yacht that lay anchor a little further up the river. Some or all of its passengers had taken a rubberboat and gone to shore.

"Is one of them Juárez?" he asked Spider. He gave the binoculars to her and pointed at the people on the beach.

"Yep. That's him, one girl-friend and two bodyguards. I wish I had brought my sniper rifle." She put down the binoculars.

"Nice place for a dive, don't you think?"

Spider looked up at the sun. "Sniper rifle would be so much easier."

"What's the fun in easy?"

They got ready for their dive. Spider was the first into the water. Murdoc handed her one of the limpet mine packages which she carefully strapped on. Then he gave her the other before lowering himself into the water. Spider gave him the package and he strapped it on.

"Ready?"

"And cold."

They dove under. Murdoc swam as close to the bottom of the river as he dared with a few pounds of explosives strapped to his chest. He checked whether Spider was following him. He signaled to her to move quicker. When they reached the yacht Murdoc waited for a moment until Spider had caught up. They had agreed earlier that she would place her mine on the bow; he would place his on the stern. He pointed above his head. She nodded and put thumb and forefinger of her right hand together. Then she swam up.

Murdoc swam to the stern. He swam up, but made sure he didn't break the surface of the water. He unstrapped the limpet mine and placed it against the hull. He held his breath for a moment when he let go of the mine. Were the magnets strong enough to hold the weight? Was the hull indeed made out of steel? The mine didn't tumble down and Murdoc breathed relaxed. He dove underneath the yacht and broke the surface on the other side, the shore side. He wanted to see if the party of four was still on the beach. The rubberboat obscured his view. Which was good. If that was still at shore than the party of Juárez probably was too.

He dove back under. Spider was waiting for him by the bow. She gave him the thumbs up to indicate she had placed the mine successfully. He signaled to her to swim back.

Murdoc reached their motorboat first. He pulled the mouthpiece from his mouth and took a large gulp of fresh air. He threw his mask and fins on board before he climbed on board himself. He took of his equipment and set them down carefully. He noticed the rubberboat had gone. That would mean the party had gone too. Murdoc took the binoculars to confirm this. He unzipped his wet suit and stripped it down to his waist. He picked up a towel and started to dry himself off.

"That was ..."

"Ssh, sound caries." Murdoc quickly cut Spider off.

She grinned at him. "Fantastic," she mouthed.

"Here, let me help you with your equipment." Murdoc bent down to help her.

Spider put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in closer. She pressed a kiss on his lips. "Really fantastic."

"Good to hear you are warming up to the arctic water."

Spider smiled at him and released the shoulder straps of her equipment. Murdoc pulled the equipment on board. Spider climbed on board. He threw her a towel when she dropped herself on one of the seats.

"What do we do now? Wait?"

"It seems Juárez is back on board. So I see no reason to wait." Murdoc took a small radio activator from the glove compartment and pulled out the antenna. "Now is as good a time as any."

"A better time than most," Spider giggled.

Murdoc pushed the button. A moment later they heard an explosion and saw some water splash up at the side of the yacht. Closely followed by a second explosion.

Spider smiled at him. "How big do you suppose the hole in the hull will be?"

"Big enough."

It looked like a fire had started on board of the yacht. The yacht leaned to port and sank.

"On March 23, 1983, the _Children of the Dust_ sank. There were no survivors."

"Let's check whether that is true." Murdoc put on a shirt and jacket and started the engine. "We didn't see anyone jump ship, but they still may be thrashing about in the water." He turned the Swinger around.

-oOo-

_A/N: This chapter took so long because I realized what boring lives assassins actually lead._


	4. Chapter 4

"Aren't you feeling good about yourself?" Murdoc said to his mirror image.

"Yes, I am, as a matter of fact," he replied. He turned on the tap and washed his face. He felt the stubble on his chin. Shaving would have to wait.

"You have to tell her."

"It can wait."

"How long?"

He turned off the tap and took a towel to dry off his face.

"How long?" he urged himself.

He shrugged. "She'll find out eventually. It's best if the money and I are far away when she does."

He heard a distant knock on the room door.

"Did you order room service?" Spider called through the bathroom door.

"Yes," Murdoc replied. He dried his hands and hung the towel over the sink.

He entered the room and saw Spider sitting at the table reading a paper. Breakfast was laid out on the table. He picked up his shirt from the floor and put it on. He tucked it into his pants. Murdoc walked over to Spider and slipped his hand down the front of the shirt she was wearing. He kissed her neck.

"Hmm. Still trying to work up an appetite?" Spider folded up the paper and hit him playfully over the head with it. "We've made the paper."

Murdoc withdrew his hand and straightened Spider's collar out. He walked over to the other side of the table and sat down. He selected a bun and cut it open. "I hope not. I like my privacy." He spooned strawberry jam into the open bun.

"Well, it doesn't say it's us. It's about Juárez' yacht. It sank last night. No survivors. Six bodies were found among the wreckage. Two women and four men. None have been identified." Spider summarized the news paper report. "That's Juárez, his girl-friend, his two bodyguards, his cook and a chambermaid."

"Juárez isn't dead." Murdoc took a bite out of his bun.

"Sure he is. We were there. We saw it happen. The boat went boom, twice. There was a fire and then it keeled over after which it quickly sank. It was a beautiful sight in the afternoon sun." Spider held out the paper to him. "Here it says six bodies were found. He's one of them. We saw nobody jump ship and swim ashore. What makes you think he survived?"

Murdoc took the paper, folded it and put it down beside him. "There were two explosions."

"Yeah, so? Two mines, two explosions."

"My mines went off at the exact same time."

"What are you saying? There was something else that exploded?" Spider asked cautiously. Murdoc nodded. "Like the engine?"

"Like a few pounds of C4-explosives."

"A coincidence?"

"I think Juárez took his yacht out this distance for it to blow up. It was a coincidence that we had the same idea."

"We could have surprised him. Killed him."

"We don't know whether he was on board. We just assumed it."

"Yeah." Spider's shoulders drooped. She got up and walked over the bed. She dropped herself on it. She rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling.

You've told her, Murdoc said to himself, but you could have waited until after breakfast. Murdoc poured himself a cup of tea. The bad thing about Juárez not being dead was that he didn't get paid yet, and that Juárez would be a lot harder to track down this time. The good thing was that that made it a lot more interesting.

Murdoc finished breakfast. He looked around for his socks and shoes and put them on.

"Who was she?" He stood by the bed, his hands in his pockets, and looked at Spider. She hadn't moved since she lay down on the bed. "The woman in the picture on the beach with Juárez," he explained. "Was she your sister, or your lover?"

"Friend. Best friend."

"And Juárez had her killed."

"When kids grow tired of their toys they just forget they owned them. Juárez destroys them."

"How did he do it?"

Spider raised her head a little so she could look at him. "Why? You think you might learn something?"

"I'm always open to new suggestions."

"He took her for a drive in the desert, threw her out of the car and drove on." Spider dropped her head on the pillow again.

"I see." Cruel. The corner of his mouth curled up. Sometimes Murdoc liked to come up with ways to kill his targets that not only made them dead, but also were fitting in one way or another. Juárez was just the kind of person that opened up a world of possibilities in that respect. "I think we have to work on a new plan to get to Juárez. I'll get his file from my room."

When Murdoc returned fifteen minutes later Spider was still lying on the bed. He threw the file at her. It just flew over her and landed on the pillow next to her. Spider reached over to pick it up. Murdoc quickly pushed her down on her stomach. He twisted her left arm behind her back. Her right arm was caught underneath her. He placed a gun against her head and straddled her.

"What ..." The rest of what she wanted to say got muffled by the pillow.

"Give me one good reason to not shoot you right now."

Spider managed to turn her head a little so that she could speak. "There'll be a mess."

"This hotel has maid service."

"You'll ruin your chances of me ever paying you that sixty-five thousand dollars."

"Seventy thousand dollars."

"What! Why is it that ever time we talk cash your price goes up?"

"Because I'm holding a gun to your head."

"Why are you holding a gun to my head?"

"There is something suspicious about this whole situation. First, you used to work for Juárez. Second, you hire me to kill Juárez. Third, you know exactly where to find Juárez. Fourth, Juárez sails around with several pounds of explosives on his yacht, as if he is waiting for someone to blow it up."

"I've never worked for Juárez. I used to work for a pal of his. But I know a lot of people around him that fed me with little bits of information."

"That person being Juárez himself. He needed to look dead. And who better to ask to kill you than the best in the business."

"Juárez wouldn't be so stupid as to want someone to mock kill him and not inform that person he didn't really wanted to end up dead."

Murdoc frowned. Spider had a point there. "Then how do you explain this situation?"

"Uh, coincidence? Maybe Juárez got wind someone wanted to kill him and devised his own plan; maybe someone else got to him first, planting explosives on his yacht; or most likely: Juárez just wanted to appear dead, and we just happened to come along. Look, I have nothing to do with Juárez. I just want him dead for what he did to my friend. It's not like the bastard doesn't deserve it, and there's probably a long line of people just waiting for their chance to get a hand on him."

Murdoc felt Spider wriggle a little underneath him. He reminded her he still had her arm twisted behind her back.

She gasped. "Is that a good enough answer for you?"

Murdoc considered the answer. Juárez probably just wanted to look dead. Had stocked up on explosives for his yacht to explode at sea. It would be presumed the tide had washed the bodies away. Murdoc's limpet mines had made Juárez' charge go off early. Caught him by surprise. Killed him. In any case, Juárez would not hire someone to set a hit on him, without informing that person he was only meant to look killed.

"I guess it's good enough."

"Now will you take that fucking gun away from my head!"

"Tsk, tsk. Such language."

Murdoc let go of Spider's arm and got up. Spider quickly turned around; she hit Murdoc full on the head with a pillow. In a reflex Murdoc fired his gun.

They stared at each other.

"Stupid cow." Murdoc was the first to speak.

"Another inch," Spider whispered. She turned her head to look at where the bullet had lodged itself in the wall.

Murdoc climbed over the bed to inspect the hole. "I think I'd like that back." He turned to Spider. "Do you have a pair of pincers or something?"

"Yeah, I guess. In my bag of toiletries, in the bathroom."

Murdoc went over to the bathroom to get it. A few minutes later he had retrieved the bullet from the wall. "We just have to fill this hole up with something. And when I say we, I mean you." He turned to Spider who was still sitting on the bed looking quite in shock. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "That was close."

Murdoc walked around the bed and picked up the shell in passing. "I would have thought you had been shot at before."

"Never from this close, never by accident."

There was a knock on the door.

"Who's there?" Murdoc called.

"Hotel manager. Could you open the door, please?"

"Could you get the door?"

Spider got up to answer the door, while Murdoc quickly put the gun in the drawer of the nightstand.

"I'm sorry to bother you," the hotel manager started. He looked at Spider. "Some of our guests have voiced some concern over ..." His voice trailed down as his eyes trailed down her body to her bare legs.

Murdoc coughed to get his attention. "Some concern over?"

"People heard loud voices arguing."

"We were just having a little domestic, weren't we, darling?"

"It was nothing," Spider added. She walked across the room and sat down at the table, where breakfast was still laid out.

The hotel manager followed her with his eyes.

"Was that all?" Murdoc asked. He managed a smile when the man turned his attention to him again.

"No, one of our guests said they heard a gun shot."

"No, that was just me blowing my top. I can be quite explosive."

The manager smiled politely. "I see. I --"

"We just had a little tiff. We're sorry it disturbed the other guests. We're quite all right now and it won't happen again. My sincerest apologies."

"Very well, thank you. I'm sorry to have bothered you, but I just had to make sure --"

"That we hadn't turned your hotel into a bloodbath," Murdoc quickly replied. Murdoc and Spider both chuckled. "We understand. No trouble at all."

"Then I wish you a pleasant day, and enjoy the rest of your stay at our hotel." The hotel manager made a little bow with his head. "Ma'am." He stepped back into the hall and Murdoc closed the door.

Spider took a bun from the basket and started plucking little pieces off it. Murdoc watched her a little absentmindedly.

"I'm not really having a very good morning," Spider said. "I probably should just crawl back into bed and try again tomorrow. Care to join me?"

The corner of his lip curled up. "A tempting offer. Though, I should get back to my own room, take a shower, clean up a little."

Spider nodded. "Perhaps I should give that a try too."

Murdoc got his gun back from the nightstand drawer. He checked if the safety was on and put it behind his waistband. He pulled his shirt out of his pants so it would conceal the weapon. He left the room.

-oOo-

Murdoc just finished shaving when there was a knock on his door. Dabbing his face with a towel he opened the door. Spider grinned at him.

"Nice view."

Murdoc only wore a towel around his waist. He rolled his eyes and beckoned her in. He closed the door behind her. "I thought you didn't find me in the least attractive."

"Must have been the outfit." She smirked. "I came to talk to you about the Juárez thing." Her face turned serious as she sat down on a chair.

"I'm not too pleased with it either. If he isn't dead I don't get paid."

"If he isn't dead I still want him killed. I'm sure you'll get paid eventually."

Murdoc picked up the outfit he had laid out on the bed: a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He put them on. Spider watched quietly.

"How do we find out if he's dead?"

"A curious coroner in the state of Washington will try to identify those six bodies that were dumped in his place of work. Probably run their prints through a police computer. Something will come up."

"But what if what you say is true: Juárez is still alive, but he wants people to think he is dead? What if one of those men was his stooge? There are ways to get rid of a person's fingerprints. Probably one of them has happened to your face."

Murdoc flinched. He didn't like talking about his face. "What do you want to do? Go over to the morgue and check for yourself whether he is dead?"

"There's an idea."

"Do you know what he looks like? Can you identify him with part of his face gone? Does he have a third nipple your file didn't mention?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Dental records?"

Spider thought for a moment. "I think I have something." She got up. "You think of a way to get to those bodies; I'll think of a way to identify Juárez."

Murdoc chewed on the inside of his cheeks. Thinking of a way to get to the bodies was easy. Finding out where they were was the hard part.

-oOo-

Murdoc climbed up the telephone pole a few miles out of Ridgefield. Leaning back in his safety harness he opened the switch box. He plugged in his equipment, consisting of a number tracer and a telephone extension. He dialed the number of the local hospital. A receptionist answered.

"I have placed a bomb in your morgue," Murdoc said with distorted voice.

"You what?"

"A bomb, your morgue."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"No joke. It will explode in ..." Murdoc checked his watch. "Seventy-six minutes. Tic toc." He disconnected.

Murdoc watched the number tracer intently. What would the receptionist first do: call the local police or go straight for the emergency lines? Five minutes later the call Murdoc was waiting for was made. He quickly answered the call before it got through to the proper addressee.

"Clark County Emergency Dispatch. How can I help you?" he put on a woman's voice.

"Officer Stevenson of Ridgefield police. A call was just made to our local hospital with a bomb threat."

"One moment please, I will put you through." Murdoc smirked and changed his voice to that of a man with an east coast accent before he continued. "Clark County Sheriff's Office, bomb squad."

"Stevenson, Ridgefield Police," the man on the other end of the line replied. "A call was just made to our local hospital with a bomb threat."

"How long ago was this call made?"

"About five minutes."

"Have the building and surrounding buildings been evacuated?"

"Evacuation is in progress."

"What was the exact content of the call to the hospital?"

"At 13.08 the receptionist of the hospital answered a call. She says it was a man's voice, but it sounded distorted. The man said: 'I have placed a bomb in your morgue.' The receptionist didn't understand him at first. The man repeated: 'A bomb in your morgue.' She asked if it was a joke. The man replied: 'No joke. It will go off in seventy-six minutes. Tic toc.' Then he hung up."

"Seventy-six minutes. He is precise. Hoaxes usually mention a time."

"So you think this is not a hoax?"

"We never treat a bomb threat as a hoax. I will send a unit over right away. They will be with you in about forty minutes. Make sure the buildings are evacuated and keep spectators at a safe distance."

Officer Stevenson had no further questions and both men hung up. Murdoc unplugged his equipment and closed the switch box. He climbed back down the telephone pole. He got in the station wagon and drove back towards Vancouver.

Not much later he saw Spider approaching in the Nissan. He signaled to her and they both pulled over at the side of the road. Spider got out of the car. She was wearing the same outfit as Murdoc: combat boots, blue cargo pants and a dark blue bomber jacket. She opened the back door of the Nissan and a young German Shepperd launched itself off the backseat. Murdoc got out of the station wagon to put his climbing equipment and the phone in the back of the Nissan.

"Sergeant! Get back here!" Spider hollered.

The dog stopped in the field and gave her an expectant look.

"Great. I just got him and he's already challenging my authority." Spider got a tennis ball from her jacket pocket and showed it to Sergeant. The dog looked interested. She threw the ball and the dog sped away to fetch it. It stopped to give Spider another look once it had caught the ball. Spider rolled her eyes. "We don't really need the dog, do we? We could be bomb squad without a sniffer dog?"

Murdoc cocked his head. "Not really." He smirked. "Perhaps you could work on your disguises a little and be the canine of the unit."

Spider scowled. She got a packet of dog treats from one of her pants pockets and she took one out and weaved it at Sergeant. The dog dropped the tennis ball and rushed over to Spider. She only just managed to not get her fingers bitten off with the treat and gave the dog a big hug.

"Like all men he loves with his stomach," Murdoc remarked.

"She's not a he. See." Spider pulled Sergeant up by her front legs and showed Murdoc.

"You have a leash for that dog?" Spider nodded in reply. "Then get her in the station wagon. We have to go."

Spider opened the rear door of the station wagon and threw in a dog treat. Sergeant jumped in after it, grabbed the treat and gave Spider a surprised look when she found herself locked into the car. Spider smirked at the dog.

Murdoc rolled his eyes. Never work with kids or dogs was a famous show business rule. It probably applied to any other business as well. He got in the car and started the engine.

-oOo-

Within forty minutes after talking to Stevenson Murdoc pulled up at the entrance of the Ridgefield Hospital. A large crowd of patients, some in their beds, others in wheelchairs, along with nurses, doctors and other people were gathered on the parking lot. Murdoc glared at them with suspicion as he got out of the car.

"These people are standing too close," he shouted to the policeman that came walking up to him. "I want them across the street, preferably even further away." He waved with his arms to add force to his words. "Is the building secured?"

"Officer Stevenson, deputy chief." The man, about ten years older than Murdoc stuck out his hand. Murdoc glared at it then shook it briefly.

"Are you the officer in charge?"

"You're bomb squad?"

"Lieutenant Baldwin, lieutenant Kislovsky." He pointed to Spider who just came around the car with Sergeant on a very short leash. She shook Stevenson's hand too. "Now, to my question: is the building secured?"

"Yes. We made a room by room check. Just finished. Everybody's out." He pointed at the crowd that was being ushered across the street by a few policemen.

"Corpses too?" Murdoc asked. Stevenson gave him a quizzical look. "The bomb threat was for the morgue."

"Uh, we concerned ourselves with the living. Do you want us to get them out?"

"Leave them. No heroics for dead people. Now, I want a floor plan of the hospital."

"Officer Taylor can help you with that." Stevenson beckoned another man to come closer. He held some floor plans and showed them to Murdoc. "About those dead people. There's six people in that morgue, brought in this morning. Their families would want them out. I'll send some people to go with you and wheel them out. Can't take more than a couple minutes."

Murdoc thanked Taylor for showing him the floor plan and turned to look Stevenson in the eyes. "Leave them," he said calmly and started for the door.

"Don't mind him," Spider said to Stevenson as she opened the car door to get a backpack. "He lost half his face pulling a guy out of a building that had gone back to get his video camera."

"So, that's why-"

"Kislovsky, are you coming?" Murdoc stood by the door.

"Coming." Spider slung the backpack over her shoulder and pulled Sergeant on her leash. She followed Murdoc into the building. "Straight for the morgue?"

Murdoc didn't reply, but led the way.

"Something the matter that you suddenly aren't talking? Are you worried they're listening in on us?"

"Be quiet."

"Was it something I said? Perhaps you should say what it was so I can apologize."

"You've been talking quite enough already." Murdoc stopped and turned to face Spider cutting her off before she said something else. "Why are you talking so much?"

"Keeps me from thinking." Spider took a step back under Murdoc's stare. "In there," she nodded at the doors that led to the morgue. "There could be Juárez, or not. And I don't want to think of the possibility that it isn't him."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"You shouldn't have mentioned the face to the policeman," Murdoc finally said.

"Sorry. I didn't know it was a sensitive issue."

"It's not." Murdoc smirked. "I just don't want people guessing about what happened to it."

"Sorry."

"Come, we have some corpses to identify."

-oOo-

The hospital morgue was small and consisted of two offices, a little lab, an autopsy room, a visitors room and a cold storage. It was for the latter room that Murdoc and Spider headed. In the cold storage all six bodies were lined up in rows of three on trolleys against opposite walls. The room was a little crammed. It was obviously not designed for a crowd of six. Spider gave Sergeant some dog treats to keep her down. Murdoc pulled away the sheet of the first body and read the toe-tag.

"Female. I think we can skip those." He smirked at Spider.

She returned a half smile. She pulled a little hardcover notebook from the backpack. Murdoc pulled the sheet back over the feet of the woman and went on to the next body.

"Hairy feet. This is probably a man." He walked over to the top end and pulled away the sheet there too. "Facial hair. A further clue."

Spider didn't respond to his jokes. She opened the notebook and started reading out loud. While she read Murdoc put on some surgical gloves he had pulled from a box when they passed through the autopsy room.

"Paco has funny teeth. We kissed the first time today. Properly kissed. I was giddy as a school girl. Still am. He has a very small jaw, so his teeth are crowded together. He says when he was a kid a dentist pulled some molars to make more room for his teeth. I didn't find a gap between his molars, but his incisors all seem to have turned sideways a bit to give the others room."

The face of the body was partially covered in bubbly, red skin. He may have tried to put the initial fire out, Murdoc thought. He swallowed, then he tilted the man's head back so his mouth fell open. He inspected his teeth, even ran his forefingers along the incisors of the maxilla to make sure.

"This is not Juárez." He put the man's head and the sheet back in place and moved on to the next body. He gave the other three men the same inspection and then reported his conclusions. "None of these men is Juárez." He pulled of the gloves and stuck them in his jacket pocket. "I'm sorry."

Spider nodded. "You already said he wouldn't be here."

"What do you want to do now?"

Spider shrugged. "Don't know. Find out where he is. Try again."

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."

Spider gave Murdoc a half smile.

"Come, let's go." He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll return that dog to the pound, and then I'll buy you an ice-cream."

She put the notebook back into the backpack and fastened it. Sergeant jumped to her feet the moment Spider pulled on the leash. They left the morgue the way they had found it. They walked back through the hospital.

"I'm keeping the dog, tough," Spider said. "She has grown on me."

Murdoc let out a brief chuckle.


	5. Chapter 5

Murdoc didn't like Juárez had gotten away from him. He'd had a spotless record so far, and he was damned if he'd let a slime like Juárez get in the way of that. Spider's file had said Juárez was a creature of habit. Though Spider's file had been wrong on a few occasions, Juárez' habits were the only lead Murdoc had to find him again. So Murdoc had gone to Las Vegas to see if Juárez would risk picking up one of his more innocent habits.

Spider had gone back to the East coast, though grudgingly. Murdoc had argued that if she knew so much about Juárez, he might know just as much about her, and that would not make it easier to find him again. Murdoc had taken his time to find Juárez. There were a few jobs he had to do, and he wanted to give Juárez time to pick up a routine again.

The habit Murdoc was most interested in was to play Blackjack once or twice a week, always at the same casino, always at the same table, always at the same chair. Certain that Juárez would pick up this habit again sooner or later Murdoc had installed himself at that same table every night for a fortnight. He'd even begun to strike up some report with one of the dealers. He was glad to see she was at the table this night as he slipped on to the seat next to what was supposed to be Juárez' seat.

"Hello, darling. I'm glad to see you. You bring me luck." He flashed the dealer a smile.

She brushed one of her stray dark curls behind her ear and returned his smile. "Good evening, Mr. Johnson. We're always very pleased to see you."

"Please, call me Peter."

"Very well, Peter. I'm Amy." She gestured towards her name tag.

Murdoc stuck out his hand to shake hers. "Hello Amy. I feel this is going to be my luckiest night yet. Please, deal the cards."

Amy dealt the cards and they played a few rounds of Blackjack, most of which were won by the house.

"Not very lucky yet," Amy said.

"The night is still young." Murdoc placed three chips on the table and Amy dealt him two new cards.

A man sat down next to Murdoc. He placed three chips on the table indicating he'd like to be dealt two cards too.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Juárez," Amy said as she dealt him the cards. "We've ... Oh, I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else." Amy smiled apologetically.

Murdoc had glanced briefly at the man as he sat down, hearing the name Juárez made him look up again. He didn't recognize the man. Perhaps it was a different Juárez.

"That's okay," the man replied to Amy in a light Spanish accent. "It's good to know you make an effort to know your clients."

"We try to make you feel at home as best as we can, Mr.?"

"Perero, João Perero."

Murdoc found the man next to him fascinating. He was roughly the same height as Juárez, had the same built, but a completely different face. Then, plastic surgery was such a simple procedure. Murdoc leaned back casually and pretended to scan the room for a waitress. He threw a quick look at Perero to see if he had any of the obvious scars plastic surgery left. He couldn't see them; Perero's hair style was in the way.

A waitress answered his glance over his shoulder and he ordered another Single Malt. He would have to ask Amy why she thought this man was Juárez.

-oOo-

Murdoc had left the Blackjack table half an hour after Perero had joined. He was out 350 dollar. He mentally added it to his list of expenses. Then he remembered he and Spider had never come to an agreement about expenses. He grumbled under his breath. He took a sip from his drink. From across the room he saw Perero and Amy both leave the table. He checked his watch: it was the end of Amy's shift.

He moved quickly to cut Amy off before she entered the door marked _private_.

"Amy." He grabbed her by her wrist, but dropped his grasp the moment she turned her head to him. "It seems you didn't bring me luck after all. Will you do me the pleasure, though, of joining me for a drink at the bar?"

Amy looked at him. He noted the hesitation in her eyes.

"Just one drink." Murdoc put a hand over his heart. "Make a man feel better about losing his week's earnings in an hour."

"We're not really into counseling," Amy replied. "But they have some flyers at the front desk."

Murdoc gave her a pleasant smile. "That's not really what I meant. You're a very hard girl to sweet talk."

"That's because I'm quite sweet myself already." She winked at him.

Murdoc chuckled. "Right you are. Is there any other way I can persuade you to have a drink with me? Or is having a drink with a punter against company policy?"

"In my free time I can do what I like. Let me first get out of my work clothes. I'll meet you at the bar in half an hour, okay?"

"Very well. See you then."

-oOo-

"What's a punter?" Amy asked as she slipped into the booth next to Murdoc.

Murdoc looked up and smiled. Amy had changed into a pale red shirt and taken her hair out of the chignon it had been earlier. Her curls were now freely flowing over her shoulders. Quite an attractive woman, Murdoc assessed.

"I've been racking my brain ever since you said it. Is it some kind of slang?"

Murdoc smiled. "Yes, it is, in a way. It's British. It means gambler."

"Of course. And you're British. You know, I always can tell it's you before I've even seen you."

A waitress came to the table and Amy ordered a white wine and ice. Murdoc held up his glass to show he'd like another of the same.

"How can you tell it's me before you've even seen me?"

"Well, not always, but sometimes you order a drink from a waitress before you sit down. It's your voice I recognize. The voice and the accent, very peculiar combination." She slapped her hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean that in a bad way."

"I'm not taking it in a bad way. I like being peculiar. Otherwise I would have long tried to emulate an American accent to better fit in in these parts."

She smiled in reply. The waitress brought their drinks and Murdoc toasted her to her health.

"Are there any other- er, punters, for want of a better word, that you recognize without seeing their faces?"

"We call them clients."

"That sounds so cold and business transaction like."

"It does, but calling them gamblers also has a negative ring to it. I'd like how you call them punters. Though, people would probably think I was calling them names if I said that."

"They wouldn't be wrong."

"No, they wouldn't be. I was wrong today though." Amy took a sip from her wine.

Murdoc frowned. "How do you mean?"

"You were there earlier." She put her glass down and leaned a little closer. "Usually I recognize punters by their hands. It's what I'm looking at most of the time anyway. You can tell a lot from a person's hands. Whether they have good cards for instance. Your hands tell me you play a musical instrument. The piano, I think, and I'm guessing also the guitar."

"Amazing."

"Hmm. Maybe I should put an act together and get my own show here."

Murdoc chuckled. "But today you were wrong?"

Amy waved it away. "I could have sworn it was him. Long, slender fingers. A thin long scar near the knuckle of the index finger on the right hand. A nearly invisible scar diagonal across the left ringfinger. And some kind of blister wart type thingy near the nail."

"That sounds pretty detailed. I'm guessing that combination would be rather unique."

"I would have thought so too. Then I saw his face. Mr. Perero, I mean. You remember him? You sat next to him."

"Vaguely. I didn't pay much attention to him."

"When I saw his hands, I could have sworn it was Mr. Juárez. He even sat in Mr. Juárez usual spot. Except that Mr. Juárez hasn't played his regular game of Blackjack in months. Maybe I had just forgotten what his hands were like. Just remembered they had a couple of scars, so when I see another guy with a couple of scars on his hands I think it's him."

"You seem to miss your favorite punter."

"Can't be, I'm having drinks with him."

Murdoc smirked in reply.

-oOo-

Amy's information was very useful to Murdoc. He was convinced she had a good eye for which hands belonged to which of her regular Blackjack players. If she believe that Juárez was back in town then that warranted an investigation. Murdoc set to work to find out more about this João Perero: tailed him, talked to some people and saw him again at the Blackjack table. When he felt he knew enough he called Spider.

Murdoc checked himself in the mirror that hung by the phone while he waited for his call to be put through. He rubbed his mustache. He had been cultivating it for nearly three months and was quite pleased with the way it had come out.

"Hello?"

"Spider?"

"Murdoc!" On the other side of the line Spider chuckled. "How've you been?"

"As well as can be. Juárez has surfaced."

"Oh." Spider's mood seemed to drop as quickly as it had risen. "Where?"

"Strangely enough, Las Vegas."

"Vegas? You'd think he'd stay well clear of a place where everyone knows his face."

"He's had plastic surgery, goes by a different name, but I'm sure it's the same man. He's even involved in the same dirty dealings."

"Could be one of his underlings that has taken over."

"You want to come and see him for yourself?"

"I guess. I'll take a flight from JFK in the morning."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Spider?"

"Yes."

"How do you feel about mustaches?"

"They're a great way of telling the not attractive men apart from the attractive."

"Bye." Murdoc hung up and checked his mustache again. "Forgot to ask which is which."

-oOo-

Murdoc sat on the boot of the taxi facing the entrance to the arrivals hall of the airport. He tapped some ashes off his cigarette. He wasn't really smoking, just holding it to look interesting. But who would take interest in a cab driver in a denim jacket wearing a baseballcap.

"Aren't you warm?"

Murdoc looked up into the smiling face of Spider.

"I mean, denim that doesn't breathe well, does it?"

Spider was wearing a light blue Summer dress with spaghetti straps, and matching high heeled sandals. Her blond hair was tied up in a loose pony tail. She looked simple yet gorgeous, Murdoc concluded.

"Warm is a state of mind," he said.

"Warm is also the state of Nevada," Spider replied. She indicated her backpack that stood next to her. "I assume you're here to give me a ride?"

"Sure." Murdoc dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. He got up and grabbed the backpack to put it in the trunk of the cab.

Spider grabbed the handle of the front door of the taxi.

"Ah-a. Passengers in the back."

Spider rolled her eyes. Slammed the front door shut and got in the back.

Murdoc chuckled. He got behind the wheel and a moment later pulled away from the curb.

At the first traffic light Spider stuck an envelop forward between the seats. Murdoc took it and glanced over his shoulder.

"The rest of the advance I owe you."

Murdoc quickly riffled through the money. Fifteen thousand dollars seemed to be all there.

"Very well." He closed the envelop ad tucked it in his jacket. "Where would you like me to take you?"

"To a hotel to drop off my bag and then I'd like to go for a bite to eat."

Murdoc looked at her through the rear view mirror. "Any particular hotel?"

"I thought I'd just bunk with you. I quite enjoyed myself last time."

"Did you now?"

"No, I did then." Spider giggled.

Murdoc chuckled and turned in the direction of his lodgings.

-oOo-

During the afternoon he spent with Spider Murdoc recounted his efforts to find Juárez. She laughed at the appropriate intervals and made a few jokes about men that can see the big picture but get lost for the details.

"I'm all for having Juárez die in a painful way," she said after Murdoc had explained his plan for killing Juárez, "but wouldn't just shooting him be simpler?"

"Hardly. The man is usually surrounded by bodyguards."

"But you think it will be easy enough to get into his penthouse?"

"Easier at least. And I doubt they would lie in his bed for him." Murdoc took a bite out of his ice-cream.

They were sitting side by side on a bench at the mall eating ice-cream.

"Fair enough." Spider leaned forward, making sure the melted ice-cream would not drip on her dress. "Tomorrow's going to be the big day then?"

"Yes, it is." From the corners of his eyes Murdoc watched her watch her melted ice drip onto the tiled floor. "You're not having the pre-kill blues, are you?" She turned to look at him. "You've never heard of the pre-kill blues?"

"No, but I can imagine what they are. I'm not regretting the thrill of this chase is going to be over. I really want him dead. I was just thinking about the last time we thought we had him killed."

Murdoc flinched lightly. He reached out and touched her shoulder. "This is not last time. We will kill him. I promise."

Spider smiled at him before she turned her head back to her ice-cream. "Thanks."

Murdoc rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. They sat quietly for a moment. Melted ice-cream reached the fingers of his other hand.

"Oh dear." He transfered the cone to his other hand and began licking the cone and his fingers to try and control the damages.

Spider chuckled. She got up and threw away her own cone. She went away to fetch some paper napkins.

She gave the napkins to Murdoc as she sat back down. He shot her a grateful glance. He had eaten the rest of his ice-cream cone and set to the delicate task of making his fingers stop being sticky.

Spider watched in amusement. "You never told me how your date with Amy ended?"

Murdoc gave her a curious look. He took the finger he was licking clean from his mouth and wiped it on the napkin. "It ended after one drink."

"Seriously? I mean, the woman was practically throwing herself at you."

"She ordered a white wine and ice." Murdoc stuck his pinky finger in his mouth.

Spider gave him a surprised look. She blinked a few times, then she started to laugh. "She ordered the wrong drink? You snubbed someone for putting ice in their wine. I thought only the French were snobby about wine."

"I have French ancestry," Murdoc replied.

This comment made Spider burst out with laughter.

-oOo-

Murdoc stared at the ceiling. What's wrong with this picture, he asked himself. Spider was sleeping with her head on his shoulder, an arm across his chest. He lightly caressed that arm. His other hand was entangled in her hair.

Nothing, he answered. It's a very nice picture of a man and a woman.

Maybe you should read the caption again, more carefully.

Murdoc closed his eyes. He knew what the caption said: international assassin and his lover. He knew what was wrong with that picture too.

He opened his eyes again and looked down at Spider. Love was the problem. Not that he loved Spider. But she had some definite attractive qualities and he was starting to take a liking to her. If left on its own he could even fall in love with her. And that was wrong.

Love clouded a person's judgment. It could get him hurt, or her. Which, under the circumstances, he might think worse. His was the life of as few commitments as possible. Particularly commitments to people, relationships. Someone could use her to get revenge on him. He might not always be able to protect her from that.

He would try. Of course he would try. He had managed to keep his sister safe all these years. He had kept her a secret from everyone, including her. And that was what had kept her safe: no one knew she was his family. Spider would not be an easy secret to keep. For one, HIT already knew about her. They might even know they were in bed together at this very moment.

Murdoc shook his head. HIT did not have eyes and ears everywhere. Even if they did, life would be easier to imagine they didn't.

All these thoughts would be academic, Murdoc decided, if either one of them wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship. But he had a feeling that Spider would like to see him again after the end of this contract, and he wouldn't even be thinking these things if he wasn't interested. Having a lover though, a girl-friend even, made him vulnerable. He would have to end it. Put a stop to whatever was developing between them romantically. He would have to do it now. As with a plaster, tear it off in one. Though he personally preferred to soak off plasters in a nice warm tub.

Murdoc tried to free his arm from Spider and get out of bed without waking her up. This didn't work. She looked up at him drowsily as he stood next to the bed.

"You're getting up already?"

"Morning is the best time of the day. It's the early bird that catches the worm, my dear. So, time to get up."

"That's just silly. Birds forage all day." Spider yawned and stretched. She turned on her side. The sheet slipped off her.

Murdoc quickly went into the bathroom before he changed his mind.

-oOo-

"Elevator maintenance." With a clang Murdoc put the toolbox down on the receptionists' desk. The male receptionist gave it a disdainful look. "Someone called in to complain about the muzak."

"Please, take your box of the desk. I will check."

Murdoc complied. He gave the female receptionist a wink as he picked up the toolbox. She gave him a light frown and turned away. Murdoc turned to Spider. "Must be losing my touch."

"I didn't know you had a touch. I've never noticed it."

Murdoc growled lightly and turned back to the male receptionist. The man got off the phone a few moments later.

"Elevator maintenance?"

"That's us." Murdoc gave a big grin.

"There was a report that the middle elevator stops an inch short of the seventh floor."

"Show us the way and we'll fix it."

"Elevators are through there." The receptionist pointed to his right. "How long will you be?"

"As long as it takes." Murdoc picked up the toolbox from the floor. He and Spider went into the appointed direction.

Spider pulled two pairs of surgical gloves from her pocket and gave one set to Murdoc. They put the gloves on and Spider pushed the call button for the elevators.

The elevator came and they went in.

"This elevator requires a key to go up to the twelfth floor." Spider pushed the button for the eleventh.

"We'll just have to by-pass it." Murdoc put the toolbox on the ground and opened it. he gave Spider a screwdriver. "Here, make yourself useful."

"What's with that accent of yours?" Spider asked as she unscrewed the control panel. "I hardly recognized you."

"A Californian seemed like a more likely employee of a local company."

"That may be so, but between the accent, the latex face and that mustache, I don't like the new you."

Murdoc gave a wry smile. "The dress up wasn't for you."

"Good. I need a smaller screwdriver." Spider had opened the panel and started reconnecting wires. "When we get back to your motel room I'm going to peel of everything that doesn't belong. Much like a banana."

"Just pay attention to the matter at hand, or you'll slip up. Much like a banana."

Spider giggled. "This ought to work." She replaced the panel and pushed the button for the twelfth floor.

The elevator stopped at eleven. The doors opened and they closed. Then nothing. Murdoc and Spider looked at each other.

"Right." Spider pulled the panel from the wall again and tried again. Still without result. "Right." She looked at the top of the elevator door. "Apparently, what I want isn't going to work. New plan." She pushed one of the ceiling panels to the side. "Trapdoor. Can you give me a boost?"

Spider grabbed a wrench. Murdoc folded his hands together and braced himself against the wall to give Spider the height she needed to open the trapdoor. When it was open, Murdoc pushed her up a little further and she climbed onto the roof of the elevator. She popped her head and a hand back through the hatch to take the toolbox from Murdoc.

Murdoc jumped up, grabbed the edges of the hatch and pulled himself up. Spider had opened up another panel. She pushed the lever behind the panel and at the same time started pushing one for the elevator doors away from the other. With a light swoosh the doors slid apart a foot and a half.

"I should have realized that around you my first plan always fails." With a little wave of her hand she indicated that Murdoc should go first.

Murdoc checked if the hallway was free of people before he climbed out of the elevator. He went straight over to the door of the penthouse to pick the lock while Spider lifted the toolbox into the hallway and climbed out after it.

Murdoc pushed open the door. "Ladies first."

"Aren't you going to carry me over the threshold?"

Murdoc looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Right. Point taken. We're here to kill a man, not for tomfoolery." Spider quickly went into the room.

Murdoc followed and closed the door behind him.

"This is definitely Juárez' place," Spider said looking around. She picked up a picture frame. "His former yacht. He always loved that thing. I wonder if he cried when it blew up."

"He had wanted it to blow up," Murdoc replied. He checked behind a few doors to find the master bedroom.

Spider returned the picture to the side table and went after Murdoc into the bedroom.

Murdoc took careful notes of how the bed and the bed covers were situated. Then he pulled the covers aside and lifted the mattress off the bed. Spider opened the toolbox and gave Murdoc the items he asked for.

After placing the bomb with the movement trigger underneath the bed, Murdoc and Spider carefully replaced the mattress and covers. Murdoc carefully crawled underneath the bed to activate the bomb. He got back up and closed the toolbox.

"This bed is might up so tight," Spider remarked. "I bet you could bounce a quarter off it."

Murdoc tapped his pockets. "Sadly, my darling, I'm all out of quarters. I'm afraid you will have to wait for Juárez to set off the bomb himself."

Spider chuckled.

"It's time we went."

There was a noise in the other room. Muffled voices.

"Out the window," Murdoc added. He walked over to the nearest window and pulled it open. He looked down. "Good there's a ledge." He climbed out of the window.

"What's good about that?" Spider came a little closer to the window. She didn't look happy.

"You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

"I don't mind heights." Spider carefully stuck her head out the window to look down. "It's the depths they accompany that I don't like."

"The joints between the flagstones are very large. It would be similar to climbing down a ladder."

"A twelve story ladder."

"Get the toolbox."

Spider's head went back inside the building. Murdoc edged over to the flagstone and started to climb down to the next ledge. He looked up to see the toolbox being pushed out the window. It narrowly missed him. The toolbox crashed down on the ground floor terrace. Murdoc watched it going down. Then he had the presence of mind to quickly step onto the ledge of the eleventh floor.

"I don't see anyone else," he heard a man's voice say. "She must have broken in alone."

Spider got caught. Murdoc swore under his breath. He listened to the conversation that came fluttering out through the open window.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to make some repairs."

"Then why did you throw your toolbox out the window?"

"You startled me. It slipped."

"Don't lie to me."

Murdoc heard the sound of someone being hit and falling to the floor.

"I'm asking you again: what are you doing here?"

"Bleeding on the off-white carpets. Management is so not going to be happy with you. Ow."

After that the window was closed. Murdoc turned around and knocked on the window he was facing. There was some movement of the curtains on the other side of the window. Murdoc grinned at the questioning face of a man in the room and indicated to him to open the window.

The window slid open.

"What ... ?" the man asked as Murdoc stepped inside.

"Window washer. I just had an incredible craving for a cup of coffee." Murdoc quickly rushed out of the room.

-oOo-

Murdoc ran down the stairs. Spider got caught; that was her problem. 'If you get caught, you're on your own', he had told her that. It had nothing to do with him. He couldn't go back in, guns blazing to rescue her. Besides, they could have already killed her. Juárez' men seemed like the type to step on spiders they found in the bath.

But by the time he reached the fifth floor he had changed his mind: he would try and see if he could rescue Spider. Murdoc thumped the wall in passing: why did he always fall for the pretty face with the girlish giggle? Two floors further down he also realized that if Spider died he wouldn't get the rest of the money she owned him. He was glad there also was a rational reason to get involved in such a foolish endeavor.

First order of business would of course be finding out whether Spider was still alive. For that he would need to get back up into the penthouse. Posing as the hotel manager might be a way in. Surely, someones had seen the toolbox fall and made a call to management.

Murdoc exited the staircase at the basement level and went to look for the employee locker room. He heard the ping announcing the elevator. He quickly hid in a closet. Through a crack he saw two burly men pass. They were dragging along a third person that seemed to have barely enough strength to walk along with them. It was Spider. Murdoc slipped out of the closet and quietly followed them.

The men took Spider to the parking lot, threw her in the boot of a Lincoln and drove off in that car. Murdoc had little trouble getting into another car, hot-wiring it and setting in pursuit.

The early afternoon traffic was crowded making it easy to keep a tail on the two men. They were heading North. The further they progressed, the quieter traffic got. Murdoc had to keep more distance between him and them. He could only think of one place they were heading for: the desert.

-oOo-

They had left the town behind. There was no other traffic on the road. Murdoc was keeping so much distance he had trouble still seeing them. Then the Lincoln turned off the road and turned into the desert. Murdoc came to a slow stop near where the car had turned off the road. He could see faint tire tracks. He watched the car get smaller in the distance. There was not much he could do at this point. The desert gave little opportunity for stealth. Besides he was hardly equipped for going after two men in the desert: he was only carrying a small handgun.

Murdoc pulled the latex skin off his face. He looked around in the car to see if there was anything in there he could use. Nothing. He got out of the car to check the trunk. The heat hit him hard. He stripped down the top half of his overalls. The t-shirt he wore underneath was already soaked.

The trunk had some towels in it, a jack and a spare tire. Murdoc lifted the spare out of the trunk and threw it down beside the road. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with one of the towels. He went to sit in the car again and waited until he saw something approaching from the desert. He got out and started to role the spare back to the car. As he lifted it into the trunk the Lincoln turned back into the road. He waved at the two men to indicate he was alright. The driver waved back, and the men drove off without taking any further notice.

Murdoc closed the trunk and got back into the car. He drove off in the direction the other car had come from. There was a small trail he could follow. He was glad for it; he would hate to get lost in the desert.

After about ten minutes he found what he had been looking for: a human body. He got out of the car. It was Spider. Juárez' men had taken her clothes and left her behind to die. Her face was bruised and her skin had turned red. She had tried to curl up into a ball.

Murdoc knelt down beside her. He quietly stroked her hair. He carefully lifted an eye-lid. Her eye rolled back. He noticed the faint raise and fall of her chest. She was unconscious, but still alive. He wrapped the towels around Spider before he picked her up and carefully placed her in the backseat of the car. Then he drove back to town.

-oOo-

After he had brought Spider to a hospital, and quickly left before anyone could ask any questions, Murdoc went back to his lodgings. He turned on the TV and sat down on the bed. He wondered if Juárez had found out about the bomb. Would that make him more careful and would he disappear again? Or would he think that with Spider out of the way the threat would be over? Juárez wasn't the smartest of people. After all he had come back to Las Vegas. Even if he now knew of the bomb that didn't matter. Juárez needed a more personal approach and Murdoc knew just the thing.

He smirked. He turned off the TV and fell back on the bed to work out the details.

-oOo-

That night was Juárez regular night to play Blackjack. Murdoc went to the casino, and sure enough, Juárez was there too. Murdoc gave one of the waitresses a $50 note and asked her to spill Juárez' drink in his lap. When Juárez went to the restrooms to clean up Murdoc followed. He knocked Juárez out with a blow to the head. A moment later Juárez' curious bodyguard received the same treatment.

Murdoc hid the bodyguard in one of the cubicles. He pulled Juárez up and drapped his arm over his shoulder. A man entered the restroom and gave Murdoc a curious look.

"He doesn't take his losses very well," Murdoc offered.

"Do you need help carrying him?"

"That would be most kind. Thank you."

The man helped Murdoc carry Juárez to the parking lot and placed him in the passenger seat of the car Murdoc indicated. He even put on his seatbelt. Murdoc thanked him again. Then he drove back to the desert.

-oOo-

When Juárez woke up Murdoc was just finishing putting up his tripod and camera.

"What is this?" Juárez yanked his bonds.

"Ah, Mr. Juárez, how good of you to join us." Murdoc smirked at him.

"Juárez? You must mistake me for someone else, amigo. My name is not Juárez."

"Perhaps not. But you are the man that I want. Your hands give you away. Plus you tried to kill a friend of mine the same way you had killed a friend of hers." Murdoc grinned and hoped the camp fire would throw eerie shadows on his face. It seemed to work; Juárez yanked on the ropes that tied him down some more.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Why, kill you of course. Kill you like the pig that you are." Murdoc dropped the grin and poked up the fire. "I hope you like it hot."

-oOo-

It wasn't until Spider was released from hospital that Murdoc went to see her. He had kept track of her progress, but he hadn't wanted to see her. He walked in just as Spider was saying good bye to the nurses.

"Murdoc! I've missed you." She gave him a peck on the cheek which he was apprehensive to receive. "Are you here to pick me up?"

"As a matter of fact I am."

Spider grinned and took his arm.

They got as far as the hospital cafeteria. There Murdoc sat Spider down at a table. She gave him a questioning look as he sat down opposite of her.

"Juárez is dead."

"For sure?"

"Yes." Murdoc took an envelop from his inside pocket and pushed it across the table.

Spider looked inside. She flicked through the photos. "Nice touch with the apple." She flashed him a grateful smile.

A corner of his mouth curled up. "Instructions on how to pay me are in there too."

Spider looked up from the last photo showing Juárez roasting over an open fire. "So, this is good bye then?"

"You only hired me to kill Juárez. He's dead."

"I thought we had a little more going than that."

Murdoc avoided her gaze as he dug through his pocket. He produced a key and put it in the middle of the table. "That's the key to my lodgings. Rent's paid up until the end of the month. I've moved out, but some of your things are still in there."

A moment of silence passed between them.

"You're afraid I might fall in love with you," Spider said.

"We're assassins; we don't socialize."

Spider let out a mild chuckle and shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

Murdoc got up and stuck out his hand. "Good bye, Spider."

"Good bye, Murdoc."

They shook hands.

"Straighten out your collar."

Spider looked down at her collar and flipped the part she had mistakenly tucked in up. When she looked up again Murdoc was gone.


End file.
